Pretty Girls
by welcome ghosts
Summary: Pretty girls become doctors because they couldn’t save who mattered most to them. They become doctors because maybe, if they fix enough people, they’ll eventually fix themselves.A Cameroncentric oneshot.


I felt like writing something sad, and well, this is what happened. I touched on why Cameron is a doctor in When You Grow Up, but this is another version. Sameish idea, though. Please review and let me know what you think – good or bad. I'll love you forever:D

Disclaimer: Not mine – I'm just borrowing. I'll give them back for tomorrow night, promise. ;)

* * *

Allison Cameron had been damaged since she turned fifteen.

It had been three days after her birthday, and the cold of that January morning still made her shiver in her memories.

When she woke up in the morning, she had looked out the window to find the ground covered in a blanket of snow, so pretty, so delicate, that she was sure nothing could ever go wrong.

She specifically remembered eating scrambled eggs for breakfast and wearing a dark green sweater that day, the one she saved for cold winter days like this one. Days when she would stay inside her house, sip hot chocolate, and read her favorite books.

Having these details etched in her memory had never struck her as odd, because she perfectly remembered the rest of January 14th. It was the days after that morning which had run together over the years. Run into a mess of death, tears, and grief.

The pain of those following weeks she could still remember; she remembered it everyday. It was the other details following the accident that had escaped her.

The snow from the previous evening had piled up overnight and covered their front yard. As much as she loved staying inside to read, there was no denying it was the perfect time to make a snowman.

At fifteen, she was too old to build one herself, but her younger sister, Beth, at seven, was just the right age. _Please, Ally, make a snowman with me. It'll be fun, promise._ Their oldest sister, Molly, was away at college, which sometimes left her wondering that if Molly had been home, this would've happened.

They lived on a busy street, and her childhood had been filled with warnings of being cautious when she went outside. Seeing speeding cars of silver and red whizzing by was nothing new.

But on a day when snow and ice covered the road, she hadn't thought anyone would be driving. At least, she had hoped they would be weary of the slick streets.

Sometime, after finishing rolling the head and body of the snowman, Beth had decided that they needed to find arms and buttons and a carrot nose. _He has to have a nose and buttons, otherwise he isn't right._

Beth had volunteered to find the arms; she didn't trust her sister to find the sticks that looked perfect. Beth had suggested that instead, her older sister go get the nose from inside the house. _Just make sure it's long enough._

Acquiescing to her sister's demand, she went inside, thinking Beth would be all right on her own for a few minutes. Afterall, no one drives down icy streets too fast. She reached the refrigerator and pulled out a carrot, hoping it would pass her sister's inspection. She turned to go back to the front door.

And then her world collapsed.

The sound of screeching brakes and a child's cry reached her ears.

Immediately, the carrot fell from her hand, landing on the floor with a small thud, suddenly inconsequential and forgotten.

She cried out to her mother and bolted to the door, each step taking a second that felt like a year. Outside the winter landscape, which would normally be picturesque and beautiful, was ruined by the figure lying still in the street.

She vaguely heard her mother follow her out, vaguely heard her soft gasp, and vaguely heard her rush back to grab the phone. She rushed to her sister, still unmoving in the road, her arm at an unnatural angle, and a jagged cut running down her cheek. The car, long gone, had thrown her through the air, and who knew how fast it had been going.

She frantically looked around for her mother, unsure of what she should do. All she knew was not to move her and what good would that do.

_Ally. _A soft voice, Beth's voice. She found her sister's hand, little and cold, and held it tightly. Days later, and still years later, that tiny whisper of a voice would be what she clung to.

Her mother was already back outside, having moved at the speed of light to get the phone and then reach her child. Her mother murmured that the ambulance was on its way.

The two of them stayed next to her sister, saying nothing but words of comfort and reassurance to Beth. Then the sirens began to echo as the paramedics barreled down the streets to where they were. She stood up with her mother, backing away when they came, giving them room so they could save her sister. They had to save her sister.

Soon Beth was in the ambulance, and the man with tired eyes told both of them to get in. She paused, having glanced down and spotted something.

Next to where Beth's small, tiny hand had been was a thin stick. The right size for a snowman arm. She looked to her yard where the snowman still stood, an eerie reminder of the life and laughter that had filled the streets moments before. She picked the stick up and clutched it so tightly in her palm that it dug into her skin, turning it bright red. The color her sister had streaking across her forehead.

Then she pulled herself into the ambulance and as the man closed the doors, the last thing she saw was a small pool of blood, a splash of color among white, a stark contrast to the crystal calm of winter.

The hospital was a mess of noise of frantic movements. She was herded into a waiting room, and told to sit tight.

A doctor with eyes like the paramedic came to see her and her mother. She wasn't sure how long it had been – maybe ten minutes, maybe two hours.

Her baby sister, her little Beth, was dead.

Next to her, her mother made a strangled cry, a sound she would later hear all too often. She, just the opposite, didn't do anything. She only stared and stared, wondering why she had left her sister outside alone, wondering why she hadn't been able to save her. But most of all, hurting. Just hurting. And she had never said goodbye.

Allison Cameron had broken that day, and since then, she had never managed to fix herself.


End file.
